A2K Cabin Fever

The Cremation of Sam McGee

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam 'round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he'd often say in his homely way that he'd "sooner live in hell".

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn't
see;
It wasn't much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o'erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and "Cap," says he, "I'll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I'm asking that you won't refuse my last request."

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn't say no; then he says with a sort of
moan:
"It's the cursed cold, and it's got right hold till I'm chilled clean
through to the bone.
Yet 'tain't being dead -- it's my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you'll cremate my last remains."


A pal's last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn't a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid, because of a promise given;

It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: "You may tax your brawn
and brains,
But you promised true, and it's up to you to cremate those last remains."

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed
that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in
a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows -- O God! how I loathed the
thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I'd often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the "Alice
May".
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then "Here", said I, with a sudden cry, "is my cre-ma-tor-ium."

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared -- such a blaze you seldom
see;
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn't like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to
blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don't know
why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: "I'll just take a peep inside.
I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked";. . . then the door I opened
wide.

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;

And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: "Please close that
door.
It's fine in here, but I greatly fear you'll let in the cold and storm --
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it's the first time I've been
warm."

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

-- Robert Service

I think we've become more incestuous - no new blood is really coming
and staying, it's just us regulars who will go on each others nerves sooner
or later.

hmmm, familiarity breeding contempt, and all that kind of stuff

interesting

I haven't noticed anything but maybe I'm not checking out the right threads. Even Set hasn't been his normal FountofIrascibility lately.

You haven't looked enough.

Not that I've never been irascible.

i've been guilty of it myself

No, I have a lot of topics Thumbs Down. Probably just as well.

Uh oh, is that two rr's?

Actually, djjd, you have seemed to have blossomed (what a word..) here, to me. I like it when you are expressive.

YOU do?

oh, well (waves hand).

whatever do you mean, dahling?

But wait, a lot of topic thumb downs are neutral - they're people clearing their decks. Some people don't want to read games or riddles or politics or osso and her latest lame soup. It's not hostile, it's just deck clearing.

Specific post thumbs -- sometimes people post thumbs down entirely against a person, and once in a while people will smelt one single post.
I think there are mechanics I can never understand that will put brakes on how any one person can slam any one person with endless thumbs down.
Whatever, calmo.

I mean, Mame, it takes a work of imagination for me to imagine thumbing you down for content that is offensive, in a single post. Even if we ever disagree, and I posit we could, it wouldn't be a post thumbs down, good grief.

People who thumb whole threads are clearing their deck, usually, for whatever reason, including not being interested in, say, sports. Look at the numbers for the football threads, heh.

The people who complain about threads being thumbed seem to me to be not here all that often and take it personally.
Some of us oddies of us who monitor the site often do clean up jobs.
The people who frequent less often assume a thumbs down is a philosophical or personal dump.

Me, I just am not interested in, say, medieval fantasy movies, though I'm fine with the thread poster. (I think that one's still cooking but if it is, not for long).

If you're not well loved, dahling, I'd be amazed.

I absolutely promised myself that if I came back...I would stay away from all that bickering bullshit. And that lasted for almost three days.

Now I am back bumping heads in some arguments I know I should just get the hell out of...but ya just hate to let someone get up on ya!

Gonna try to be good again tomorrow.

Now if I can only avoid H2OMan!

Sorry, I wasn't clear, Osso. I am the one thumings down all the threads that are bicker-y, so I guess I never get to see what they were talking about, hence not knowing about all the irascibility currently going on (and I believe it is ONE r ha) - jeez louise, I'm starting to sound like you! lol

Frank, you have to put him (H2O) on ignore, and life will be good again

LOL!

Still having fun bumping heads with him.

It's a battle of wits with an unarmed opponent!

Frank, is he getting the better of you? Shame!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mjEcj8KpuJw

That's so funny